


Sensory Data

by Seaward



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, Geeky, M/M, Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaward/pseuds/Seaward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney uses his unique (and genius!) approach to sensory data collection and processing to try to figure out John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sensory Data

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to The Guy and Linda for beta reading. Remaining mistakes are all mine.

Most people assumed Rodney was oblivious to interpersonal signals. Of course, most people were idiots who made vastly oversimplified assumptions. The way Rodney saw it, everyone took in data from their senses all the time. Rodney absorbed and manipulated as much visual data as anyone, probably more than most. At present part of his mind visualized the wave power generator that he'd left in the lab, as well as its schematics and the schematics for adjustments he might use to increase power output. He was also navigating halls in the south tower based on current visual input from his surroundings, a mental map of the partially cleared area, and the life signs detector in his hand. He had determined that John's current balcony hideaway was in this tower, and it would require only a small cognitive coordination of the relevant visual data to track him down.

Rodney would admit that he didn't allocate much visual processing time to monitoring people's movements or facial expressions, so he often missed signals others considered obvious. He didn't care, because he knew his brain had better things to do with his visual input, especially because he was a very visual thinker.

A similar argument could be made for why he didn't always listen to people. Most of what they said was uninformative and delivered painfully slowly. He'd rather listen to himself talk, although he was more often listening to the extra mental commentary that even his mouth was too slow to deliver, which was a great loss to the rest of humanity.

What others most often failed to take into account was that there were sensory channels for taste, smell, and touch that generally offered very limited data flow. Much as Rodney might like to reassign both input and processing from those systems to others that might be more useful to his work, there were limits to how far even a genius could reprogram an inefficient organic system like the human body. Instead, he tried to optimize his use of what data did come through those channels. While smell was occasionally useful for detecting a threat or even an electrical fault, both smell and taste were generally best utilized to appreciate food.  Rodney was fairly certain he had a better appreciation of food, from the darkest chocolate to the most maligned MRE, than almost anyone he knew. He wasn't sure if being a genius increased his minimum processing power for each sense or if non-geniuses just didn't know how to optimally allocate the attention and memory they had available. Either way, Rodney appreciated the flavors that garnered strong immediate reactions from his tongue as well as those that lingered pleasingly in his mouth or that he associated with pleasant memories, and he remembered enough from each experience to let him optimize his decision tree when he later selected, combined, or sequenced which foods he would eat.

In the efficient system that was Rodney's mind, that left his sense of touch for gathering and processing data about people. He noticed patterns quickly, how Teyla used her forehead touching ritual when she was pleased with work he had completed or after long separations or shorter ones where their lives had been at risk. Zelenka used touch to move Rodney's hand or body when they were working in close quarters or when verbal communications about more important data pre-empted use of an auditory channel for additional communications. Rodney could appreciate (although he would never waste auditory channel time to express it) how comfortably Zelenka worked with him no matter which parts of their bodies were pressed against each other. It did not require any great insights into human nature for Rodney to know Zelenka's ease with both their bodies often calmed Rodney in tense situations and provided him the minimum average data flow he needed to avoid frustration that his sense of touch was vastly under-utilized.

Perhaps due to a general shortage of data coming in, Rodney noticed every touch he received. He knew which people slapped his arm (usually military) and which squeezed (usually women, but also Carson). He could recall each time someone hugged him, the context, and how hard they squeezed. He noted each accidental bump and brush, and it didn't take much to realize which supposedly accidental touches were statistically unlikely to be accidents. Zelenka and Cadman were both masters of physical retribution disguised as accidents.

Sheppard, on the other hand, had an entire language of supposedly accidental, or at least incidental, touches. The complexity of his tactile communication was the most interesting intellectually of all the data Rodney obtained through touch.

As Rodney stepped onto Sheppard's latest balcony hideaway, the way John leaned forward on his arms didn't so much convey his anxiety as that Rodney should position his left arm to brush against Sheppard's right.

"Hey," John said as his arm muscles clenched and then relaxed at the minimal contact.

Rodney leaned further into the touch as he fumbled to put away the life signs detector with his other hand. Sheppard leaned in to bump shoulders as a comment on Rodney's clumsiness. The expected bump sent warmth through Rodney's shoulder and chest.

"How's the wave machine coming?" John looked out at the ocean around Atlantis as he asked, but his head tilted toward Rodney's. While their heads didn't touch, Rodney could feel the warmth of blood flow to John's not entirely useless brain. Shared warmth was good, especially with the slight chill on the balcony.

"I know you're picturing an executive desk toy when you call it that."

"Yeah, but I like those toys," John said with an arm nudge and a flirty smile.

Rodney managed to notice the smile despite his visual channel focusing straight ahead on the ocean and mentally on the wave machine schematics. The way John paired touch with visual stimuli encouraged Rodney to notice what he could see of John, even if it sometimes slowed Rodney's visual processing of work related data, just a bit. Because it was John and it was after hours, Rodney was okay with that. While he was distracted by John's face, he saw the smile that didn't reach all the way to John's eyes.

Rodney shifted his weight so their arms pressed together most of the way to their shoulders, even though they were both still ostensibly leaning on the balcony railing. "Did Teyla or someone already pester you to death about whatever's wrong?"

John's stiffening muscles replied even before he said, "What makes you think anything is wrong?"

When John's muscles stayed tight but he didn't pull away, that told Rodney that the problem somehow involved Rodney. Why else would Sheppard force himself not to pull away? But the openness to touch before that and the flirty smile despite the sad eyes made Rodney think the wrongness could be averted, if he could decipher John's cryptic tactile clues.

"You changed balconies." Rodney gestured with his right hand, taking in the new ocean view, and then carefully settled his right arm so it rested across his own left, and his fingers sketched along John's left arm, across the soft flesh by John's inner elbow. Rodney thought he could feel John's pulse speed up through the skin, but he didn't take his fingers away. He made another barely there stroke and heard John's breath catch. Rodney's inner dialog partially derailed in his auditory channel, and he shifted more of his visual attention into actually looking at John.

John's pupils were wide, even for the night, only a slim band of hazel remained between white and black. Rodney couldn't say if John was blushing, but the pulse under Rodney's fingertips was definitely fast. Rodney knew by the flex of muscles in John's forearm that he'd fisted his hands, trying not to reach out for more touch.

As an experiment, Rodney moved his face closer to John's, knowing he was close enough that John would feel the warmth if he was paying attention with his sense of touch. John eased closer like a cat sneaking up to fresh laundry, and Rodney knew he'd decoded John's message.

It only took a slight lift of Rodney's chin to brush his lips across John's.

The data from such a sensitive area exploded into Rodney's processing. There was soft and warm but mostly touch touch touch touch touch!

John didn't react, and Rodney was left with the echoes in his brain as he felt John's warm breath, still so near his face. Their arms were still touching, the angle was awkward, but neither of them moved, neither could relax yet.

Then John nodded forward, and his lips were warm and firm as they kissed one side of Rodney's mouth and then traced toward the center. There was warmth and wetness and Rodney's lips unsealed to let John's tongue trace the inner edge where Rodney hadn't known he had quite that many nerve endings. Some small sound escaped from Rodney's throat, and it felt like a vibration moving forward, and John's tongue along Rodney's teeth sent sensation shooting back through his mouth and rushing right to his center.

Rodney knew he must have been overwhelmed by the data flow, because somehow the balcony railing was pressed into his back, while John was close enough in front of him that his warmth seeped through Rodney's clothes. John slid one hand behind Rodney's neck and up into his hair as his other hand traced Rodney's side, slid to his waist.

John shifted his weight forward and they were actually touching from hips to nipples. Rodney realized his eyes were closed and he wasn't processing much of anything except for touch. John's tongue was tracing Rodney's, deep inside, and Rodney had never felt so overwhelmed before. It must be because it was John, and John had a whole language made up of touch. Rodney wanted to learn it all.

 


End file.
